Sticky Days of Summer

 I am enjoying a hot summer afternoon on the porch of the Brubacher House - a 1850 historic Mennonite farm house museum where my siblings are care-takers and I occasionally twiddle away a few afternoons volunteering as museum interpreter when they are traveling or otherwise engaged. It is blessedly warm out - for which I am grateful in the depths of my soul. I look out over the beautifully maintained four-square garden, Columbia Lake, and the new baseball diamond and reflect, relax, maybe even read while waiting for the occasional museum visitor. The only thing this summer afternoon is missing is an ice cold glass of some home made lemon aid (which I could maybe raid from Josh and Laura's fridge) or sweet tea. The sprinklers that start up to water the baseball diamond every 10 minutes or so are also quite tempting.

I have been meaning to reflect in this space again, after my long absence and subsequent soul barring and rather dramatic post in May. The response to my previous post was unexpected - while I enjoyed the cathartic experience of self-reflection and publishing my musings about seasonal depression and anxiety in this format, I was unprepared for how people would respond. The out pouring of care and concern was much appreciated - though I found myself uncertain of how to reply. To have reached the place where I had the motivation and energy to blog about my mental health meant, for me, that the struggle was no longer as tangible and consuming, at least for the present. But for those who have not journeyed the hard months with me, I recognize that reading my reflections may have been jarring and unexpected. Thank you for your words and encouragement.

My experience the past two months, if nothing else, illustrates to me how my capacity for self-care and resilience has grown and shifted since the depths of the winter (both as personal and a seasonal reference). Full of family adventures, floods, infection, what feels like never healing nerve damage (pun intended), house selling/moving plans, roommate drama, and another attempt from Curzon (our wonderful, rambunctious, crazy 6 year old black lab) to eat people, the past few months have been trying. However with plenty of time outside, longer days, warm weather, self-compassion and self-care (instead of excessive media consumption), I find myself growing and accepting new challenges instead of filled with anxiety and panic attacks.

So many times over the past few months, including as I sit on the porch this beautiful afternoon and enjoy the sticky warmth of summer, I have been struck by gratitude. I am thankful for the beauty of green growing things and the warmth of summer days; for my work at Conrad Grebel University College where I find meaning in the administration of academic programs and community workshops; for my wonderful and supportive spouse who makes me feel loved and goofy; for my parents who have provided us with stable housing, love from afar, and a wonderful (if very full) month long visit; for my puppy who, in spite of his tendency to bite people (bad dog!) is adorable and reminds me how to show unconditional love and be present in the moment; for my siblings who live close by and prioritize spending time with us, including helping with said moving project; for my church community that inspires me and connects me with the world and with my faith and tradition; for my close friends (near and far) who speak into my life - either via facebook chat or long walks in the park.

There are so many changes coming up for us (including the selling of the community home where Matt and I have lived since we were married, moving to a new home, new responsibilities at work, the end of my contract in February, and more) but for now, in these sticky days of summer, I am content.